


Holy Palmers' Kiss

by KaelsMiscellany



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pushing Daisies Fusion, Audrey as the piemaker, Gen, Not Really Character Death, Some pining, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-29 04:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11433459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelsMiscellany/pseuds/KaelsMiscellany
Summary: Audrey Prudence Parker was eleven years, eight months, and twenty two days old when she discovered she was not Normal.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The PD AU no one asked for but I couldn't stop writing anyways! Because I'm not really a mystery writer the plot follows "Pie-lette", mostly.
> 
> Title comes from Romeo & Juliet. "For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,/ And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."
> 
> Also omni-POV (even limited) is hard to write. Also, also I surprised even myself by making this basically Gen. I know.

Audrey Prudence Parker was eleven years, eight months, and twenty two days old when she discovered she was not Normal. It happened like this: her mother had sent her outside to play with the dog, Cookie, while she baked. Audrey’s mother Charlotte’s real passion was chemistry, but she also loved to bake. Pies, scones, cookies; if it involved things interacting with one another in measurable ways Audrey’s mother took to it like a duck to water.

While Audrey would have much preferred to watch her mother bake, her third favorite activity, behind playing pretend and before recess, she went. She’d been trying to teach Cookie a new trick and thought that today the dog might finally get it.

Instead what Cookie got was a sedan to the side when he ran towards the road after a squirrel.

He was very clearly dead, even Audrey could tell that, although it broke her heart to think it. Yet when she rushed to his side and ran her hand over his head for one last pet he bounded upright, barked, and began sniffing around for the squirrel.

Audrey was amazed, her parents were scientists after all—or at least her mother had said her father was a scientist too—and Audrey knew full well that things didn’t come back from the dead. Meanwhile the driver of the sedan was relieved, because she certainly hadn’t wanted to kill a dog, especially one that belonged to a kid. She quickly drove off before anyone thought to ask questions, suddenly intent on a glass of rose and her partner.

The alarm on Audrey’s watch went off, telling her it would be dinner soon. Her mind racing over what this normalcy defying power of hers might mean.

And when she entered the house, that smelt faintly of burned pie, she found her mother on the hall floor, as dead as Cookie had been not a few minutes ago.

With a tentative hand Audrey reached out, perhaps this power of hers didn’t work on humans, or only worked once and she and squandered it on the family dog. Cookie might have been important to Audrey, her second best friend, but dogs paled in comparison to mothers in Audrey’s mind.

Yet when she touched her mother all became well.

Her mother smiled and made a joke before rushing to rescue her pie before it became unsalvageable. Leaving Audrey to feel more relief than any eleven year old girl should be able to feel.

At least until her mother gave a cry and Audrey heard the shattering of a pie plate.

To her relief again her mother was still well, but when she peered out the window she saw what had caused her mother’s distress. Across the street lay Simon Crocker, dead.

When the day had started for Audrey Parker she hadn’t realized that so many things would happen to her, that out of thousands of days she’d had this one would be the most trying. She would not fully realize how trying until she was much older. Yet even at eleven she knew that this day was Important.

Night eventually came, bringing about the illusion of peace and quiet, and as Audrey prepared for bed her mind still raced, she didn’t even think she could go to sleep, so many thoughts and counter thoughts rattled around in the confines of her mind.

Yet she climbed into bed, let her mother tuck her in, and felt herself calm a little at the familiar good night kiss.

At least until it produced the worst that day had to bring.

For her mother fell over again, dead once more.

To begin with Audrey wasn’t scared or sad, because she had the magic touch, she could bring dead things back to life. But when her finger touched her mother’s cheek for the second time nothing happened.

So Audrey Prudence Parker learned that her magic was not all powerful. One touch and she could bring the dead to life, but another and the dead would return to their previous state, forever.

-

As funerals went the ones for her mother and Simon Crocker were nice, not that Audrey had had much experience with such events.

Like it was it’s own magic trick her mother’s death had produced her father, a man Audrey hadn’t seen in two years, nine months, and five days. He was portly and stiffly formal with her, patting her on the head and calling her ‘dove’ in a way Audrey thought was supposed to be comforting.

As the priest droned on Audrey found herself glancing across the aisle to her best friend and Simon’s son, Duke. Earlier she had carefully, making sure her stockinged leg didn’t even have the tiniest rip in it, nudged Cookie towards him. She knew now that she would never be able to touch her dog again, and felt that if she couldn’t partake in his comfort, then at least her best friend could.

Unknown to her Duke would remember that act for a long time, his Ur example of True Kindness.

Duke’s fingers were buried in Cookie’s fur, but his own gaze met Audrey’s own, their stares conveying more than their limited vocabularies could produce at the time. Together they stole away, her father more concerned with producing the image of a grieving man, while Duke’s uncles were truly grieving.

And as the sun set Audrey found her emotions tangled, there was the grief for her mother, a strange anger at her father, and an emotion she’d never felt before, one she didn’t know she shared with Duke when they found themselves leaning towards each other and sharing a brief, naïve kiss.

-

With her mother gone Audrey thought that her father might take her in, become as good as her mother always said he was. But it wasn’t to be.

For a few days after her mother was buried Audrey was shipped off to boarding school, her only comforts a dog she couldn’t touch and the recipes her mother had taught her.

-

But that’s enough about the past, let us move, for a time, to the present.

It’s been twenty two years, five months, and two days since Audrey’s mother died and now Audrey Parker runs a bakery; she has long since learned the rules of her powers and while she makes use of them has never told anyone. She enjoys her work, although when pressed she might not say it’s her true passion.

Although even if you kept pressing her she would not tell you what that true passion is.

The one who inspired he to take that path however is now stepping into the Blissful Bite right now.

Nathan Thaddeus Wuornos, formerly a police detective and now a private eye, was thirty years, seven months, and nineteen days old when he first met Audrey Parker, and discovered her great secret. It went something like this:

While chasing down a suspect—who in Nathan’s mind wasn’t exactly a suspect considering he was _running —_across some rooftops said suspect decided it was worth the risk to make a rather large jump.

This did not work out in his favor.

He did have the good fortune of falling into the dumpster behind the Blissful Bite however, right as Audrey was taking out the day’s trash. Without really thinking about it she touched him. Bringing him back to life, unbeknownst to her right in front of Nathan’s eyes.

Needless to say that while Nathan got his man, he got quite a bit more as well. This fact eventually led to his dismissal from the force, yet Nathan had realized he could still make a change in people’s lives, just a bit more...unconventionally.

He takes a seat in what is now his usual booth, although if you told him that he would deny it vehemently, while Audrey finds herself smiling as she pulls out a _chocolat au pain_ and pours a cup of fresh coffee—both are Nathan’s favorites, the former however he’ll deny as well, claiming that pancakes were his one true love.

“So,” she says, although she already knows the answer. “A new case?” Nathan eyes the coffee and pastry as if they might suddenly grow legs and force itself into his mouth.

He does take a sip of coffee however. “You seen the news? The smiling strangler?”

Audrey has indeed seen the news, although said news has been scant on details, only that the victim had been male and strangled to death. “Yes,” she draws out the response, turning into answer and question all in one.

“Well I found out from a source,” despite the fact he never names this source Audrey knows full well that it’s one Thomas James Bowen, Nathan’s former partner from the police. “That the victim was from Haven, his funeral’s tomorrow and I thought you might be able to go in a little earlier and do your,” he wiggles his fingers in a way Audrey finds strangely attractive. “Stuff. Haven’s your neck of the woods right?”

“Yeah,” Audrey finds herself wishing that she’d brought something for herself, having nothing to fiddle with made her feel twitchy at the moment. “Do you have his name? And you better have your questions ready, we’ll only have sixty seconds.” It’s the final rule of her magic, one she hadn’t discovered until much later, and only after experimenting with small animals.

Her touch brought something back from the dead, but after those first sixty seconds something, or someone, else had to die in it’s place.

It’s a terrifying fact for a child to realize, that they’re responsible for the death of another, even accidentally. Yet responsible she was, and in subtle ways that guilt has driven her.

“Of course I’ll have my questions,” Nathan’s statement startles Audrey, combined with her twitchiness it means she gives a start, her legs kicking out slightly in reflex, her pants brushing against Nathan’s.

Audrey has made it a general rule not to touch people, not when she doesn’t know if they’re really alive or not—she has found no evidence to support or rule out the idea that she’s the only one like herself. She’s fairly certain Nathan is alive, but one can never be too sure.

Which means simple touches, especially accidental ones tend to stick in her mind like strange ingredients on recipe cards, and become a little more than they’d be to most people. A blush steals across her cheeks, in the back of her mind a whole montage of what might happen because of that touch plays across a screen, it involves quite a bit of nakedness and the peach preserve she’d just gotten yesterday from the farmer’s market. But it all starts with Nathan asking about the blush.

Nathan, however, politely ignores the blush. He is a man who’s been burned by love and does not wish to even attempt to appear to pursue it again; he has firmly walled himself off and sees no reason why those walls should be breached. It perhaps helps that he doesn’t always pick up such signals from the people who attempt to flirt with him; to him Audrey’s blush is nothing more than a typical reaction to touch for someone who doesn’t do a lot of it. He is, after all, a very good detective, he has figured out quite a bit about Audrey, even when she says nothing.

And so Audrey’s guttering hope dies, but she’s always known their relationship is a longshot at best. She has long contented herself with a vivid imagination and quite a few sex toys.

“I’ll pick you up in the morning, it’ll be a bit of a drive. And I’ll be relying on your knowledge of the town, I’d rather not get lost again.”

The jaunty salute she gives him fills her with a nostalgic pang for her childhood, for the best friend she hasn’t seen since since a double funeral. Perhaps, she thinks to herself, while they’re in Haven she can track him down. What she would say to him she has no idea, the fact that she killed his father creating a wide chasm between them that she can’t ever really bridge, or even mention. “Aye, aye, cap’n,” there’s hardly any vim or vigor in her however and Nathan wonders if perhaps she doesn’t want to go back to Haven.

But he doesn’t ask, because while he’s not in it for the money, the reward for information in this case _is_ quite substantial, and visiting your hometown in his scale of uncomfortableness is barely a two. He’ll make it up to her by doing a fifty-fifty split this time.

-

Haven has not changed much since Audrey last saw it, a few businesses have closed down, or moved, the ages of those living there skews slightly older than before. But at it’s core it’s still the same fishing town she’d grown up in.

For the occasion August has turned out it’s best weather, making the town seem even friendly with the sun streaming down and everyone out in the streets taking advantage.

“Right here,” she points quickly at the turn in for the older of Haven’s two funeral homes. The lot is all but empty.

A part of Audrey will always love Haven, but she finds that she also wants to get this over with as soon as possible, most of the people here will still remember her after all, and more than likely ask her questions about the past twenty years, most of those twenty years she would rather not revisit, although she’d be happy to advertise her bakery.

Not waiting for Nathan to catch up she bounds up the stairs, ignoring the sign announcing the funeral and viewing. She doesn’t want to know the name of the deceased—even though she asked Nathan about it yesterday—with the possibility of it being someone she might have once known she doesn’t want to bring up memories, memories that might tempt her to break her rules. Might tempt her to take a risk.

Once inside the home she slows, she might be eager, but she does her best to respect the dead. So she’s almost to the coffin when Nathan catches up to her. She hears him scratching away at his notepad, notes about what he’s seen, because Nathan knows that sometimes it’s the little things that give you the answer you need.

The coffin is closed, but when Audrey goes to lift up the lid it goes easily, Haven perhaps a bit too trusting for it’s own good. Behind her Nathan moves closer, pencil and notepad at the ready. And because it’s possible Audrey knows the man who died Nathan has to ask. “What sort of name is Marion for a guy anyways?”

Audrey is halfway with opening the coffin lid and at Nathan’s question she freezes, she knows exactly what sort of name Marion is for a guy. And mostly against her will her gaze falls down to the deceased in the coffin.

It is the man who was once the boy Duke Crocker.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this wasn't up yesterday folks, got caught up in life stuff.

Marion Robert Crocker, better known as Duke, was twelve years, six months, and thirteen days old when his father died.

It came as quite a shock to most people, for Simon Crocker had seemed the pinnacle of good health. His uncles—Vincent and David Teagues, who were not really his uncles, but near enough as to make no difference—told him it was a heart attack.

Yet the next day when they’d gone into the coroner’s office—Duke had insisted on going, he consumed knowledge in much the same way as other children consumed candy, and this was a chance to learn new things—he’d had a few moments alone and saw that the corner’s notes simply said DKO.

On the ride home he asked his uncles about it, and because they encouraged his search for knowledge they told him that it meant ‘Done Keeled Over’, or, more precisely, that there was no real indication of _how_ someone had died. They didn’t think to ask Duke where he’d come across that particular initialism, but perhaps they should have.

As it was when Simon Crocker’s will was read it named the Teagues as Duke’s legal guardians and not his mother, whom he had not seen in five years, eight months, and twenty-four days. And so Duke went to live in the Teagues’ home.

The home in question was packed full of books and strange curios. The Teagues had once been the writers of Haven’s only newspaper, before a larger newspaper conglomerate had bought up the _Haven Herald_ and fired the Teagues, deciding they knew far better what sort of news the small town of Haven wanted to hear. Since then the Teagues had been something of shut-ins, but as far as Duke was concerned they held all the answers to life’s questions.

That assumption was soon put to the test, for a few days after the funeral they’d gone to Duke’s childhood home to pick up the last of Duke’s things. Duke felt both excited and trepidatious, both because he would be seeing Audrey again. He had no idea if their friendship had been changed by death and kisses or not.

Yet when they’d gotten there the Parker house was empty, a ‘for sale’ sign swinging in the breeze. “Where’d Audrey go?” Duke had asked, almost plaintively. He hoped she hadn’t gone far, she was by far the most interesting person he’d ever met.

To which Vince had replied: “I don’t know.”

With the loss of his best friend, which created an ache much deeper than the loss of his father had, Duke threw himself into books, of which he had no shortage of.

He learned about the countries of the world, about the plants one could forage for in Maine, the histories of various peoples around the world. There was fiction too, where he experienced travel of all sorts. He found himself latching onto these stories as a sort of teaching guild, for one day he’d be old enough to travel himself, to see the world, perhaps try and find Audrey. His favorites were stories about pirates, of which he consumed so many that even the librarian would shake his head before Duke could even ask if they had gotten any new books.

At the start of high school he discovered a dusty old box in the Teagues’ attic, in which he found cassette tapes on language, and a pile of Julia Childs’ cookbooks. Both were put to good use right away, the latter to the Teagues’ delight.

Yet soon enough Duke grew old enough that the lure of the outside world became harder to ignore. He bought a map of the world and taped it up on his wall, thumbtacks going into every city and place he wanted to go visit; of which there were too many to count.

As he got older however her found himself holding back, his uncles were getting on in their years after all. They needed him to look after them. And, and, and…the list of reasons to stay grew, and leaving stayed only a fantasy.

When Duke turned thirty-four years old his uncles surprised him with their gift, a two week cruise of the Caribbean.

Perhaps Duke should not have gone, because it was on this cruise that he became a victim of the Smiling Strangler. Or perhaps going was the right choice, because it has brought him closer to Audrey Parker than he’s been since they were children, even if he is dead.

Of course being dead he cannot think any of this, but Audrey, as she stares down at him, wonders what his life has been like since he was a boy. “No one ever called him Marion,” she finally answers Nathan’s question, she is in so much a shock that she sounds like herself. “We all called him Duke, his dad named him after John Wayne.” But she remembers Duke had _hated_ playing cowboys when they were kids, much preferring to be monsters, or astronauts, or pirates.

And despite all her promises to keep to her rules, to not let herself be tempted, Audrey finds herself hatching a plan. “Nathan, can...can I do this alone? Duke’s, _was,_  my best friend when I was a kid.” Turning around she holds out her hand. “I’ll ask your questions, but…”

Nathan finds himself flustered by this unexpected wrench, yet he’s not so heartless as to insist he stay here; if he were in his place he would want privacy too. “Sure,” he hands over the list and leaves the viewing room, he could smell coffee when they were coming in and he hopes there are snacks as well—they won’t be as good as Audrey’s are.

Alone Audrey crumples the paper and shoves it into her pocket before lifting the coffin lid all the way upright. Looking down at Duke she takes a deep breath and reaches out to touch his cheek.

His eyes snap open and she jumps back, to prevent any accidental touching. “What the fuck?” He looks around, a frown on his face; Audrey’s heart is in her throat as she watches him, _alive_ again. “This is _not_ the cruise ship.”

Finally his eyes land on her. “Do I know you?” Part of Audrey’s disappointed by the question, but perhaps it was too much for her to hope he’d recognize her.

“Hey Duke,” she manages a wry smile. “I’m sure Cookie would say hi if he were here too.”

Duke’s eyes widen. “Audrey?” He moves to stand up and realizes what he’s in. “What the fuck?” His casual profanity amuses Audrey more than it should.

Even though she isn’t using her watch to keep track she still knows she’s got thirty seconds to change her mind. “You were...well I guess there’s no easy way of putting this. You were dead. I…” She hesitates, never having willingly told someone her deepest secret. “I brought you back to life.”

This idea shocks him, although perhaps not as much as it should. He has not worn a suit since his father’s funeral after all, why would he _choose_ to wear one now? He has also already realized he’s in Haven again. The Teagues were shut-ins and no longer ran a newspaper but they kept up with deaths and births like they always had, Duke knew both funeral homes quite well.

 _Fifteen seconds_. “What if you could...stay alive?” Audrey blurts out. She finds she’s both excited and appalled with herself, never since her mother has she wished to keep someone alive for longer than the sixty seconds; yet it seems for the boy she might once have loved she’s willing to do it.

“That would be nice,” Duke scratches his face, his nose wrinkling when he realizes the funeral director shaved him, he’d liked that goatee too.

Speaking of the funeral director, at this very moment he is seated in the men’s bathroom, smoking a fine Cuban cigar. As far as directors go he is, by all appearances, the worst ever. Although he has managed to keep up a lucrative side business selling the items of the deceased that pass through his doors.

He is celebrating his latest sell, a Revolution era silver box, and is feeling quite pleased with himself. But he only manages one inhale of his cigar before he DKOs, the unlucky victim of Audrey’s magic.

Audrey does not know who’s died, but she knows someone has, the minute has passed. “Okay,” the worst has already happened, she can’t exactly regret her decision now. “The service is in thirty minutes or so, so just...I don’t know have a nap. When they take the casket to the cemetery I’ll come get you out.”

Duke finds himself in awe of Audrey’s confidence, or at least what he thinks is her confidence—if he asked Audrey would tell him she’s flying by the seat of her pants—and nods. “I can do that,” t he can catch up on his thoughts, if he’s been dead for a week at the very least, he has some catching up to do. The least of which is coming to terms with the fact that he’s still considered dead for all his aliveness.

As he settles back into his coffin, Audrey approaches. “Do you have a car here?” She’ll need to send Nathan on ahead, which means she... _they_ won’t have a ride back.

“Yeah,” at least considering it’s only been three weeks his old truck should run fine.

Reaching out Audrey grabs the lid to lower it. She gets halfway before stopping. “Do you remember anything about your murder, I mean before it happened?” She asks it in a sort of rush, but if she doesn’t come out with _something_ Nathan’s going to be suspicious.

“Not really, I mean I was looking for my key in the ice machine because I’d lost it.” Neither of them are very heartened by how uncertain he sounds.

She sees his hand rise up, as if he’s about to touch her, and she deftly finishes closing the lid, she knows if he touches her clothes it won’t do him any harm; but she’d rather be safe than sorry. She’s just gotten Duke back, she doesn’t want to lose him.

Taking a deep breath she finds herself reaching out, knocking ‘shave and a haircut’ on the lid. She smiles at the memory, Duke does as well although neither can see it. Duke knocks back ‘two bits’ and Audrey forces herself to step away.

Meanwhile Nathan has been in the reception room, watching the steady influx of people for Duke’s—a name he finds as ridiculous as Marion—funeral. He’s tucked himself away into a corner and is trying to be unobtrusive, an impossible thing considering he’s well over six feet tall.

He can tell when Audrey enters the room because everything shifts, and he can hear her name mentioned over and over as people greet her and try to pull her into their conversations. She makes it over to him sooner than he thought she would. “He didn’t see the person who killed him, they caught him by surprise while he was at the ice machine looking for his key.”

Which is less than Nathan would have liked, also only the first question on his list. Perhaps he should have been there, just to make sure she didn’t spend most of her sixty seconds catching up with her childhood friend; on the other hand he’s not _that_ much of an ass.

“Alright,” he gives a small nod and pushes himself away from the wall. “Should we head back then?”

Audrey gives a nervous shift. “Actually, I was thinking of staying, I’d…” Something about the whole thing sets off a slight alarm bell in Nathan, but since it’s only a slight one, and unsubstantiated at that, he sets it to the side for now. “I want to give one more goodbye I guess.”

Having no good reason to object Nathan nods and makes his way to his Bronco. Instead of heading back home he pulls around the block and walks back to the bakery across the street where he buys a newspaper, coffee, and _chocolat au pan_.

The brief funeral service is like many you’ve probably been too, remembrances, comforting bible passages, crying. Through it all Audrey has to stop herself from vibrating with excitement—although there’s also a worry that Duke might be running low on air, granted it’s not as if the casket itself is air-tight.

Some part of her is depressed however at seeing no sign of the Teagues, she would have thought they would have done their best to make it.

After the service people begin trickling out, while Audrey comes up and makes friends with the hearse driver. Which gains her a ride to the cemetery.

Once there she hangs back, letting the groundskeepers haul Duke’s casket away and watching the hearse drive off as well before springing into action, not knowing that she’s still being watched by Nathan. Who has seen more than enough to realize his hunch was right. He’s not sure if he should be disappointed or have expected it; there is also relief that he wasn’t the one randomly chosen to die. Putting away his binoculars he gets back into his Bronco and drives off.

Meanwhile Audrey starts a fire in the work shed, considering she has already killed someone setting a fire seems like such a small thing. Taking quick breaths she runs over to where she sees the groundskeepers working. “I think your shed’s on fire!”

The men leap into action, leaving her alone with Duke’s casket. Still out of breath Audrey lifts the lid up. “Hey,” she smiles, something like relieved elation bubbling up in her to see his eyes open.

“Hey,” he responds back, sitting upright as he watches her open the second half of the lid.

The two of them hurry off.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning at the Blissful Bite Duke sits at the counter, a cup of coffee in his hands—he’d asked for espresso, but Audrey had told him the very fancy espresso machine on the counter didn’t actually work—while Audrey is in the back kitchen baking. It is not yet even five AM, yet neither feel tired. On the ground next to Duke’s feet however Cookie is exhausted, having been so excited to see Duke again after so long.

“Soooo, if I touch you again I die?” This seems like some sort of cruel joke to Duke, to have found Audrey again, but not be able to give her even a simple hug.

Audrey puts a sheet of scones in the oven, she wipes the back of her hand against her forehead, leaving a streak of flour. “Yep,” they’d gone over the rules last night in her tiny apartment, which had felt even tinier with Duke in it. But she knows he needs to understand them clearly otherwise he might slip up. “And you’ll stay dead.” A fate she rather hopes to avoid.

Before he can ask another question the bell above the door jingles. While Audrey only glances before looking back down, Duke turns, knowing full well that Audrey hadn’t flipped the sign to ‘Open’ when she’d unlocked this morning.

The woman he sees is tiny, even moreso than Audrey. With short black-brown hair and brown eyes. While the woman in question stares right back, her interest piqued by the fact that her boss has brought a _stranger_ with her to opening.

Audrey Parker hired Jennifer Claudia Mason one year, three months, and six days ago; a month after the woman had been fired from her previous job of journalist. Unlike in the movies where it is expected that a female journalist will sleep with her source, in real life it ends up with ethics committees, and review boards—unless, of course, you’re a man. No matter that Jennifer hadn’t slept with the woman until _after_ her story had been published.

Jennifer is still certain that it’s not the fact that she had a one week fling with a blue haired raver-goth that got her fired, it’s the fact that it was a woman.

Despite her best efforts Jennifer found herself blacklisted at all of the local newspapers and so had to find work elsewhere. It was completely by chance that she’d seen Audrey’s ‘help wanted’ ad in the paper—Haven had been very old fashioned and so Audrey still did things like place ads in newspapers, a fact that Jennifer appreciated. A friendship, and crush on Jennifer’s end, followed.

“Who’s this?” Jennifer isn’t jealous, but her journalist instincts are certainly clamoring for answers; even after all this time she hasn’t quite been able to silence them. He _is_ quite handsome; perhaps a one night stand becoming more? Audrey has never talked about dating or the like—in fact from what Jennifer has managed to ascertain Audrey has never been on a date in her whole life.

Even with her curiosity Jennifer’s body goes through it’s usual morning actions, putting her bag and coat under the counter before grabbing her apron and heading back into the kitchen to help Audrey.

Audrey glances up from putting liners into a muffin pan, Jennifer spots easily the blush that sprinkles Audrey’s cheeks. “This is Duke, he’s an...old friend. Duke this is Jennifer, she helps with deliveries in the mornings.” She tears her gaze away from him to the clock, about a half an hour before they open.

Slipping on over mits Jennifer goes and starts pulling out sheet pans from the ovens. “And then I mind the counter.” She doesn’t say it as if suspicious that this Duke will take her place, but more to tell that she’s not just a delivery woman.

“Noted,” Duke bites back a grin, he likes the fierceness. “Need any help back there?” He knows Audrey will say no, because one stray touch and his life is over again; but he’s so used to being helpful that he feels strange just sitting there while he watches them work.

“You could help Jenny put stuff in her car in a few minutes.” Audrey suggests, pulling out chilled dough from the fridge.

At the mention of car Cookie’s head pops up, ears pricking. Duke finds himself smiling and scratches at the old dog with the edge of his shoe. Even after discovering that Audrey had brought Cookie back to life the day their parents died didn’t overshadow her kindness during the funeral. After all she could have just chosen not to send Cookie over, even if she’d been afraid of touching him again.

Of course now the two of them are in the same boat, although Duke is sure he’s more frustrated than Cookie is. “If she doesn’t mind,” he’d hate to just force her into accepting his help.

“Cut my loading time in half? Nooo, why would I want that sort of help?” Audrey laughs lightly and Duke’s relieved that he’s not the only one laughing at the joke. “No,” Jennifer’s grinning. “Help’d be great. Means I can spend more time walking Cookie.”

If at the mention of car Cookie had perked up, the mention of his daily walk with Jennifer nearly got him on his feet. As far as daily walks would go, Jennifer would find this one a more leisurely one than usual. She would appreciate it however, giving her plenty of time to think.

The next few minutes are a blur of unloading ovens and boxing up treats, and Duke can see why Audrey’s doing all the things to get ready for _tomorrow_. Duke enjoys cooking, but he’s been afraid of tackling baking, afraid that he might ruin his fond memories of childhood with bad attempts. Of course he knows that’s not how memories work, but the fear has held him back from all but the basics.

“Here.” Standing he shrugs on his long coat and starts grabbing boxes from Jennifer, glad that the smile he gives when Audrey laughs at how many boxes he’s carrying is obscured by said boxes.

Audrey herself gives a sad sort of smile when she watches Jenny lead Duke and his tower of boxes out to her car. Even though she knows touch is impossible between them now there’s still the seed of hope. But if he wants to pursue a relationships with someone else she’s not going to stop him. She’d rather him happy and alive than anything else.

A timer goes off and she gives herself a shake. Pulling out _chocolate au pan_ she lifts them off the sheet and onto a rack to cool before going back to her muffins and sprinkling them with chocolate chips. The bell over the door jingles and she hears Duke and Jennifer enter again. “Come on Cookie,” Jennifer cajoles as they pick up the last of the boxes.

Cookie goes and Audrey’s grateful that Jenny’s willing to look after him, much harder for Audrey to do while she works.

“Want me to turn the sign?” Duke’s voice sounds close and she nearly jumps out of her skin. But when she whirls around it’s to find him safely on the other side of the counter, and nowhere near a stray finger or arm.

Audrey shakes her head. “Load the display case first, and take all the chairs off the tables,” she instructs. Realizing how nice it is to have another pair of hands to do the work. When he comes back to grab baked goods she moves to the far back of the kitchen, ostensibly to get out fruits for tomorrow’s tarts—but more because she doesn’t trust herself.

Duke begins humming as he works, the sound pleasantly distracting. It makes her keep glancing at him over and over as he loads up the case before finally going to turn the sign—the hat looks ridiculous on him, but it’s the only thing she had that could halfway disguise him on such short notice. Audrey loads in muffins and turns on the coffee pot; more ready than she usually is for the soon to be morning rush.

The bell jingles and Audrey almost goes up to take care of whomever’s come in, long term habit making her forget that Duke is there now.

Duke however is just glad to have something to distract himself with. Trying to work the cash register is plenty distracting until he gets the hang of it. But there is a good sort of satisfaction gained by watching customers leave warm baked goods in hand, smiles on their faces as they anticipate the first bite.

This goes on for a few hours, very little conversation passing between Duke and Audrey, the only change being when Jennifer returns from her rounds and walking with a very tired Cookie, who goes to his bed and sleeps, and takes over the register. Graciously showing Duke it’s idiosyncrasies.

By this point Audrey is done with her baking and prep work and collapses into one of the booths. She’s gotten more work done than usual she still hasn’t gotten over yesterday, the emotional exhaustion adds to the physical.

“Here,” she gives a start when Duke sets a cup of coffee in front of her. Holding herself deathly still as his tanned forearm remains in her field of view. “Jenny told me how you take it.” Jenny now finds herself of the mind that Audrey hasn’t been lying about the ‘old friend’ thing, because she would think someone who’d dated Audrey would know how she took her coffee.

Audrey forces herself to relax as she watches Duke take the seat across from her. “Thanks.” She reminds herself that for the time being she’s going to have to get used to him being so close. Until they can figure something out he’ll be living in her apartment; with spaces perfectly cozy for one but a bit tight for two. Too many possibilities.

While Duke is wondering if Audrey ever relaxes, maybe he could teach her some meditation to help. “So, I take it Jennifer doesn’t know?” He waggles his fingers in emphasis.

She huffs realizing that he’d used the exact same gesture Nathan does. With a shake of her head she picks up her coffee. “No. The only other person who knows is Nathan.”

“Nathan?” Right, Duke hasn’t met the other man, and never should considering.

Duke put a little too much cream in the coffee, but it’s still good. “He’s a PI, we’re sort of...co-workers I guess. He finds cases and I use my,” she wiggles her fingers. “To get things no one else ever could. He collects the reward and we split it.” With the extra money she never has to worry about making rent or paying for anything. And she’s got a got bit tucked away for retirement.

Duke blinks. “So he’s the reason you were in Haven yesterday?” It would have been nice if she’d been at the funeral for her own reasons, but he shouldn’t be too angry. After all it wasn’t as if anyone’d known where she lived now to send her the memorial notice. “And why you asked about who’d killed me.” That one doesn’t need to be asked.

“Yeah,” she shrugs. “It’s a good size reward. But I don’t think we’ve got enough to solve it.” Over the years Audrey’s gotten good at figuring that sort of thing out, her own inquisitive mind paired with what she’s been learning from Nathan just from osmosis.

“I should get the money,” Duke says, only half meaning it. “I mean it’s _my_ death.” One should get something out of the experience if one lives through it shouldn’t they?

“It’s not like you can open a bank account,” Audrey points out. Perhaps not the nicest thing, but even with her resurrecting touch he’s still legally dead. “You’re dead for all that you’re alive, and you know you can’t go back to Haven right? Everyone there’ll know you,” her hands tighten around her mug. It’s partly selfish reasons she doesn’t want anyone realizing what happened, because if others find out, well who knows what will happen to her? Nothing good she’s certain.

“Not even a phone call?” It comes out a bit more whiny than Duke would like. But to be fair it’s hard for one to let go of a life they’ve always had. “I won’t talk, I just...who knows what’s happened to Vince and Dave since I...died.”

Audrey gives a sad shake of her head, “I’m sorry Duke.”

-

On the other side of town Nathan is sitting in his office and knitting. While it is not his craft of choice most days, he finds there is a soothing monotony to the actions which helps him focus on his thoughts.

He could have died yesterday. While Audrey had had to admit that part of her powers after they’d struck up that deal—after all if he hadn’t known what reason would he have to stop asking the victim questions?—it hadn’t really sunk in the implications of it. But now he finds it’s all he can think about.

He could have died yesterday and he has to wonder if Audrey would have felt any guilt about it. Perhaps it was guilt that had driven her to break her own rules, she had admitted this ‘Duke’—a name he still finds absurd—had been her best friend during childhood. The most he’s ever heard her talk about her life before moving here.

The faint click of needles and the rhythm of his fingers keep him from freaking out too much about it.

Nathan knows it’s best for him to just go over there and confront her about it, otherwise she’s liable to try and hide it, poorly he might add, or avoid the subject altogether. Getting it out in the open and out of the way would be best for all parties.

But he knows if he does it now there will be far too much shouting and emotions for his taste—both things which Nathan has started to avoid when in excess. Today however, perhaps when he’s finished this scarf.

Whenever it happens, there will certainly be words.

-

Audrey is doing her best not to stare at Duke. A task she is sure would be far easier if he didn’t keep doing things she doesn’t expect—or if they weren’t alone again, Jennifer having already left for the day.

Though, she admits, perhaps it’s more fair to say he does things she doesn’t expect the Duke in her head to do. Having been apart for nearly twenty years means that they’ve shared less life than the both of them have lived. Her childish remembrances don’t mesh well with reality.

It’s hard to come to terms with, but she’s going to have to. Duke might have a second chance at life now, but it's a far more limited one than the one he lived before. With them being so far from Haven it’s unlikely that he’ll be recognized.

Duke can’t stop glancing as well. It has worked out that their glances are syncopated, so they never quite catch on that the other is looking. He’d thrown himself so much into taking care of his uncles and consuming books that he had only had a faint longing for Audrey, and even then it had only been longing to know what had happened to her. Now that he knows, well knows more than he had before, he’s not sure that it surprises him.

After all Charlotte had loved baking and he can tell Audrey has put her heart into this shop, most likely in memory of her mother.

They’re good too, Duke having snuck a few from the day old basket to try.

Audrey forces herself to focus on icing her cupcakes, wanting each one to be perfect has its drawbacks; today however it might be a blessing.

“Is there anything you want?” She finds herself blurting out. “I mean,” a blush steals across her cheeks as she keeps looking at her cupcakes. “Being stuck in my apartment isn’t the sort of life you expected to have. If there’re books or TV shows you want or something I could get them for you.” It’s not that she doesn’t like him following her around like a very tall puppy, but she also wants him to have experiences outside of being with her, however limited a scope that might be.

A soft laugh leaves Duke, and her flush turns angry-embarrassed, he didn’t have to laugh at her.

This is not why Duke was laughing. He finds it bemusing that after nearly a lifetime, could he call it that when he’d died?, of taking care of others Audrey seems intent on taking care of _him_. And isn’t it funny how they’d both turned out that way? Taking care of others instead of themselves.

“Some cookbooks,” he answers. He’s got a good list of recipes memorized, yet he’s curious to see which Audrey might pick out. “And I think I’m going to have to be in charge of the shopping list from now on.” She might have been in the clear on her baking staples, the rest of her refrigerator and pantry in her apartment had been lacking.

“You cook?”

Duke feels pride in her surprise, even if he’s not no reason to think she would have suspected one way or the other. “Yep, I’ve been told I’m very good.”

Audrey arches an eyebrow, a somewhat challenging look in her eye, “we’ll have to see about that.” She might not do a whole lot of cooking, as the drawer of take-out menus will attest to. But she knows she’s hard to please when it comes to food—as her few failed dates would attest to.

The bell above the door jingles as it opens and Duke has a split second to glance at the man who comes in. Recognizing him as Nathan from Audrey’s description he drops to the ground, grateful he’s in the kitchen and not behind the counter.

“Nathan,” Audrey gives as real a smile as she can, finishing off the cupcake she’s on and bringing out the tray of finished ones to put on display. “I’m surprised to see you here,” true they’re working a case; but with so little to go on she expected Nathan to try and scare up a few new leads before returning to her.

He doesn't look at her, his gaze intent on the half-circle window between the kitchen and the shop. “I know you’re hiding there, might as well come out.”

Audrey almost drops her cupcakes—which would have earned Nathan an earful considering how much each went for. Duke, in a childish attempt to delay the inevitable calls out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, there’s no one here.”

Nathan doesn’t welcome the humor. “Either you’ve gotten a talking kitchen,” he grimaces at himself for indulging the other man. “Or Marion’s not the brightest of the bunch.”

“Nathan!” Audrey disturbs her perfect lines of cupcakes when she slams the tray onto the counter.

Duke knows it’s not the best idea to reveal himself—plausible deniability and all that—but he feels like Audrey shouldn’t have to face this on her own, not when it’s about him. “I resent that,” Duke says as he stands, arms crossed and radiating anger. His eyes narrowing at Nathan.

Nathan’s eyes glance at him for only a second before they return to Audrey. “You could have killed me.” It doesn’t hold the heat it would have had he come earlier, but it’s something he’s still not happy about.

Audrey hisses through her teeth as she works on setting up her cupcake display, she knows if she doesn’t she might hurt someone—or in one case kill again. “I’m sorry alright, but if I’d told you you would have tried to talk me out of it! And I couldn’t…” she glares at her cupcakes.

“Yes I would have! Because it’s irresponsible, and you’ve said yourself you’ve got no right to decide who lives and who dies. And even if it wasn’t me someone still died.” Nathan finds himself failing to be as unemotional as he’d hoped. Audrey having a habit of pulling him out of his comfort zone.

Duke has been watching this...argument, he feels it’s safe to call it that now, both angry and confused by what the two of them are saying. “Hey!” He shouts, but the both of them are so wrapped up that they hardly notice.

So Duke goes for the drastic measures. He turns, his eyes quickly assessing everything in the kitchen with him.

“Well I’m sorry I had a moment of weakness Nathan, but I’m sure as hell not-” before she can finish a jarring clang fills the whole space, then does so again, and again.

She and Nathan both look at Duke to see he’s banging two pans together. When he sees he’s got both their attentions he puts them down. “Thank you. Now. What the hell does he mean by someone dying Audrey?” It’s her power he feels she’s got the right to explain it.

He’s not comforted by the fact that she refuses to meet his gaze, nor is she pleased with it herself. Feeling as if this is the first step towards him finding out she’s responsible for the death of his father.

“When I bring someone, or something, back.” She doesn't like it but Duke _does_ deserve to know. “If I bring them back for longer than sixty seconds...someone, or something, has to die in their place.”

Nathan wants to feel vindictive pleasure, to relish in the possible guilt that revelation should bring. But he can’t, for all that he tries to be aloof and distant he’s as flesh and blood as they, and as rooted in his emotions, walled off as they are. It leaves him feeling, empty as he watches emotions play across Duke’s face.

Those emotions are a veritable hurricane inside Duke, tearing up his preconceptions and leaving nothing but barren ground. The idea that someone else died because he lived when he shouldn’t have is not one he wants to entertain, but he forces himself to. He is alive, and someone else is dead. This is a fact that cannot be changed, or altered; it just _is_. He’s grateful that he has the table to lean against. “Who died?”

“I...don’t know,” Audrey answers, her own guilt on parade for the both of them.

“Arnold Richardson, the funeral director.” Nathan manages his facade of calm, now that it’s unnecessary. “They found him in the bathroom. He was an asshole if it makes you feel any better.” It should be funny, but none of them are laughing.

A relief, Mr. Richardson was as old as Duke’s uncles, but it doesn't help; even the asshole bit. Someone still died.

Yet none of that change the fact that he’s still _alive_ , has a second chance he never thought to have. Sure he could ask Audrey to touch him again, but he’s certain that just because she kills him doesn’t mean someone who should have lived comes back. And as nice as it would be to know what her touch would be like, he wants to live more. Everything else he can work through. Given enough time.

To Audrey it almost feels like a cosmic joke, two people dying was how this all started in the first place, and now two people have died again. She fatalistically wonders what’s going to happen to her this time.

“Okay,” Duke says.

Both Audrey and Nathan blink at Duke. Who finds himself looking at anything but them. “Look, I don’t have to like it, but I would rather be alive than dead. So it’s gonna take me some time to adjust, but I _will_ deal with it.” Otherwise who knows how much time will be spent wondering how things could have gone.

He gives Audrey a big smile that he means to be comforting, it doesn’t work as well as he’d like. Audrey appreciates the gesture anyways.

While it’s not the response he’s looking for—and he tries hard to ignore that part of him asking what _was_ the response he was looking for?—Nathan sits at the counter, the barstool spinning him. He doesn’t know what to say in response either, so instead he watches Audrey as she starts to arrange cupcakes again.

Audrey is grateful that Duke’s shaken up, but forgiving, of what happened. But wonders what he might do had other things slipped loose—it’s a guilt she’s dealt with all her life, but it hasn’t feel more agonizing than this before.

Duke finds himself frowning as he watches the two of them, Nathan staring into nothing and Audrey working robot-like. He turns around again, heading to the freezer where he’s certain he’d seen some, yes. He looks over the bottle and doesn’t see any ‘keep your hands off’ or ‘do not drink’ type stickers on it and so takes it.

Neither of them seem to notice when he comes back out into the front and makes his way towards the espresso machine, it might not work, but the little cups are all he needs.

He pours out the right amount then moves himself to be right next to Audrey, placing the cups one in front of each of them. “We all need a damn drink,” he announces, feeling a bit of pleasure when Nathan and Audrey both jump. Not so much so when Audrey then takes a few steps away, fearful of touching him. He wonders if he suggests them working on that if she’d agree to it, because being overly cautious felt wrong.

Nathan picks up the little espresso cups and frowns at the clear liquid inside, not getting much when he takes a sniff. “What is it?”

“Vodka,” Duke shrugs. “I hope it’s okay that I took it,” if Audrey’s saving it for something then she might not be happy about this.

Audrey is a bit too shocked to really care, and it’s the cheap stuff—she’s got no reason to shill when she only uses a little of it in her pie crusts. “Yeah, sure.” She reaches out to take her cup and downs it in one go, the vodka burning.

Duke downs his own just as quickly, and almost as one they turn to look at Nathan, who bristles slightly. “What?”

“Take your shot, or are you such a grizzled old PI that only whiskey does it for you anymore?” It’s not quite the angry retaliation for earlier that Duke would like, but it’s pretty good.

Nathan narrows his eyes, but reasons he deserves that. Picking up the glass he downs it, he doesn’t quite sputter but it’s a near thing—it has been quite some time since he last consumed anything stronger than beer. “Now what?”

Audrey snorts. “We figure out who killed Duke I guess.”

“Although might I recommend a thirty-thirty-forty split? Considering I did die.” Duke wonders if it’s bad form to profit from your own death,  it’s not as if he can get a job.

“Fine.” Nathan has a feeling he might regret this.


	4. Chapter 4

The online travel boutique where Duke’s uncles had bought him the fatal cruise happened to have a brick and mortar store. So the next morning Audrey, Duke, and Nathan made their way there, hoping to find some answers.

Only to discover that the travel agent in charge was dead, a plastic bag over her head.

Duke shifts his weight, finding himself uncomfortable with a sight that would have mirrored his own. “This is awkward.”

It might not have been respectful but Audrey gives a bark of laughter, Duke’s gallows humor resonating with her. “Don’t touch anything,” she says this more to Duke than Nathan. This is after all an active crime scene, and it would be highly suspect for the DNA of a dead man to appear in a place where he’d never been.

Nathan finds himself rolling his eyes at the both of them as he slips on a pair of latex gloves—his childhood as a boy scout and then his years at with the police have ingrained in him the need to be prepared, which includes the best way to not leave evidence—before reaching out and taking the bag off the woman’s head. “Well, do your thing.”

Wanting to get this over with, and feeling weird having someone she’s raise from the dead watching her Audrey’s hand darts out and sort of slaps the other woman on the cheek, before she falls back.

Caroline Harold was aged fifty two years, two months, and nine days when she came into work that morning. She did not expect it to be her last, but her killer did.

“Who are you? Are you interested in a vacation?” Not having realized she’s been brought back from the dead Caroline falls back into old habits. Yet she finds herself frowning slightly at Duke. “You seem familiar.”

Nathan, having no time for such things, snaps his fingers in front of her face, bringing her attention to him. “You’re dead,” he doesn’t like to beat around the bush in these sorts of situations. “Do you have any idea who killed you?”

“I’m dead, well, that’s a shock.” Her eyes widen as she looks back at Duke. “Oh, you’re that nice young man I had come in to get his ticket.”

“Yes,” Duke crosses his arms. “Did you know it was going to end with me dead?” In finding out the answer to that, perhaps it would be a good thing he could never talk to his uncles again. After all he’d hate for them to know that their last gift to him was directly responsible for his death, and not just tragic happenstance.

Caroline brightens. “Oh yes that was highly likely, I hope you don’t hold it against me. Unless you’re here to torture me for all eternity, then I guess you can hold it against me all you want.” She has a good idea that she is in hell, or would be again soon enough.

“Forty five seconds,” Audrey reminds, her eyes glued on her watch.

“Although I guess it ended with me dead too, there’s karma for you,” Duke bites back that that’s not how karma works.

“Why did you know Duke was going to die?” Nathan has to get a hold of this conversation before it goes off track and all his precious time gets wasted. “Do you know who killed you?” He repeats.

Caroline shrugs. “We never actually met, plausible deniability and all that. And well, Duke here,” she flutters her eyelashes at him—which Duke finds he doesn’t much like at all. “Was bringing back with him something we wanted. Except then he lost his room key.”

“Hey,” Duke feels he’s got to stand up for himself. “Losing your room key is something that happens all the time. And how was I to know accepting a strange suitcase would end in my death?”

Nathan gives him a flat look. “You know there are airport messages about that thing exactly right? Also, picking of a mysterious suitcase is definitely the sort of thing you should have mentioned first when talking about the circumstances surrounding your death. Pretty much the biggest red flag there is.”

“Excuse me for never having been in an airport. And being more concerned with the fact that I _died_ , rather than the inconspicuous suitcase I picked up at the hotel.”

Audrey, about having enough of this all, darts in and slaps the woman’s cheek again, returning her to death. “So,” she keeps her voice firm. “Whomever killed you is definitely after that suitcase.”

Duke grimaces. “Neither of you would happen to know what happened to my stuff after I died right?”

Nathan, of course, knows exactly what happened to Duke’s stuff. “It would have been examined and anything that might be evidence would have been kept, but the rest would have been given to your next of kin.” He recites.

“Well,” Duke’s smile is tight. “I guess I get to see my uncles again after all.”

-

The drive to Haven is one of tense silence, Audrey not thrilled with going back a second time—even if the first hadn’t ended so horribly. Duke a tangle of both dread and hope regarding seeing his uncles again, and Nathan just wanting to get this over with—and perhaps when it’s over he can talk some sense into Audrey, although the worse is already done.

The Teagues’ house is how Audrey remembers it as she looks at it from the back seat. She finds herself thrown into the past, a memory of one Halloween where she and Duke had hidden themselves in the sarcophagus the two older men owned.

“Audrey?” Duke’s soft voice makes her blink, shaking her head to return to the present.

“Sorry, I’m here.” It’s hard to look at the house, not without remembering better times. She does her best to stare at the lawn instead, grass is grass after all, nothing special about it.

“I know I can’t,” there’s a wistful note in Duke’s voice, “but I want to go in. My uncles hardly go out anymore, it’s not like they’d tell anyone.”

Instead of listing off all the reasons that is a bad idea Audrey instead blurts out. “Nathan, hug him.”

A statement that surprises all of them. Most of all Nathan, who has been fine not being involved in this conversation. “What? Why?” He has not been one for hugging, not for a long time. But he also knows Audrey doesn’t ask for things out of the blue.

“I can’t hug Duke, but he needs one. Please?” In a way it’s almost farcical, her asking the man she can touch to hug the man she can’t. Both of whom it could be said she has feelings for. But despite her aversion to touch Audrey has always loved helping people, and right now Duke needs her help; even if she can’t give it. Ergo Nathan.

Nathan finds himself looking at Duke unsure of what to do.

Duke meanwhile shrugs. “Okay, I mean, it’s weird,” Audrey gives a startled laugh. “But okay.”

It seems this is Nathan’s week for begrudgingly, or at least that’s what he would admit, giving Audrey what she wanted. Because he leans across the bench seat and hugs Duke. While Duke might have been expecting the gesture it’s still a bit of a shock, yet finds himself hugging back. It had been quite some time since he’d last been hugged.

Audrey watches with a vague sense of satisfaction, although she’s not sure how happy she is with the wish that it was her doing the hugging. She knows what will happen if she does, and how much she _doesn’t_ want that to happen, and yet she yearns.

If you told Audrey this was a normal reaction she might agree with you. Then she’d remind you she had lived the last twenty odd years of her life with minimal human contact, so desiring a hug should have been well beyond her. Nevermind that just because she has gone so long without meaningful human touch doesn’t mean she didn’t _want_ it.

Having read somewhere that a hug lasting longer than three seconds felt more awkward than comforting Nathan pulls away, grateful that Duke seems to be of the same mind. “Okay,” Nathan assess the house again, feeling as if he’s been drawn into something far deeper than he allows himself. To be fair most of the cases he’s done don’t involve going to such lengths to solve them. “We go in, get the suitcase and leave.”

“It’s not that easy, but yeah.” Audrey agrees. Then because she knows it’s safe and that Duke will feel it she knees the back of the bench seat. “Don’t get out of the car,” it bears repeating considering how unlikely it is that Duke will actually listen.

Duke slumps into his seat, once again feeling a bit like a petulant child. “I know,” he sighs. Knowing full well that the second he can he will be out of the car and sneaking in.

Together Audrey and Nathan march to the front door, Audrey feeling something like dread when she raises her hand to knock on the door.

On the other side they hear footsteps, and the sound of the peep hole cover being lifted. “Who is it?” Despite it being twenty years Vince’s voice sounds much as Audrey remembers it, if perhaps a bit raspier.

“It’s Audrey Parker, I used to live across the street from Duke where we were kids.” She gives as big a smile as she can. Hoping they can make this as short as Nathan wants them too.

The door opens, and there’s Vince, also looking about the same as she remembers, although the reading glasses are new. “Audrey Parker! Well this is a surprise.” His eyes narrow slightly as he sees Nathan. “And who’s this?”

“This is Nathan,” she says before Nathan can speak. “He’s a...friend.” Nathan will deny it later, but for now he’s going to have to live with it. Nathan is too surprised to protest, having not had anyone consider him a friend since his former partner Tommy.

“Hmmm,” yet Vince doesn’t argue her assertion any more than that.

“I brought pie!” The cheer in Audrey’s voice is more forced than anything, but right now she needs any excuse she can get to change the subject. “You and Dave like maple pecan right?” At least that was what Duke had told her when she’d asked.

Vince brightens. “Well yes, come in. You’re in luck, Dave just put on a pot of coffee.” Audrey does not have high hopes for said coffee, but she’ll bear it.

The inside if the Teagues house is also as she remembers, one might call it a hoarder’s paradise if everything weren’t so precisely organized. Framed on the walls are old Haven Herald plates, as well as numerous photos of Duke growing up.

“Dave, we’ve got company! It’s Audrey Parker and her friend.”

Dave is about a dissimilar from his brother as one could get, and if not for their matching weariness, Nathan would find them almost comical. As it is he keeps that to himself and follows everyone else into an old fashioned parlor, eyes taking in every detail they could in the hopes he might get some clue. A clue for _what_ however he wouldn’t be able to tell you.

“This pie looks delicious.” Dave returns from the kitchen with a pie knife as well as a tray with a pot of coffee, china mugs, and plates. “Almost too pretty to eat.”

Audrey, always willing to take pride in her work, blushes. “Thank you, I baked it myself.”

“Did you now?” Vince pours coffee as Dave slices, decades of living together turning it into a ballet of near misses and vague panic from the watchers. “Taking after your mother I see.” The look Vince gives her over those reading glasses of his is not one she wants to parse.

“Yep,” she plasters on a smile again. “That’s a thing I did, definitely. You should both come down to the bakery, I’ve got all sorts of goodies.”

“I don’t know,” Dave hems.

“It’s quite a drive,” Vince haws.

Nathan sees Duke wasn’t lying about that at least. While he would like to help Audrey, he’s certain there’s nothing he can contribute to the conversation, so he just digs into his pie—which is delicious as always, even if it’s not his favorite—and sips the coffee—which isn’t as bad as the stuff he used to drink at the station.

“Alright,” Audrey’s relieved however, considering how much she doubts she’ll be able to convince Duke to stay in her apartment. She’s not even sure why she made the offer, except as a way to deflect them asking more questions about her past. “I was sad you both didn’t make it to the funeral.” They need to get back on track.

Back in the Bronco Duke chews on the nail of his thumb, wondering when might be the best time to get out. Now? In ten minutes? Should he have already done it? Has he wasted his chance?

With an aggravated sound he nearly bursts out of the Bronco, crouching low and carefully making his way up the gravel path, easily avoiding the boards on the wraparound porch that he knew would squeak.

The lights from the parlor paint hazy yellow squares against the wood and Duke does his best to keep to the shadows as he peers in, his heart breaking as he sees his two uncles. He wants to burst through the window, just announce to the whole room how not dead he is. No matter how much he wants to he can’t.

They seem to be doing alright, and with that reassurance Duke creeps away, heading towards the other side of the porch where his own room is. The chirping of bugs greets him as he walks down the gravel drive.

As Duke stands below the trellis that leads to his room he finds himself torn between his old life here in this house, and the strange new life he seems to be making for himself. A bold claim considering it has only been a new life of two days.

He can return to the former life for a moment, familiarity making the climb up to his window easy. Like always the window’s unlocked—never a problem when he was around, but now he wants to curse his uncles for being so careless. He climbs in like he has a hundred times before. Everything is just as he left it.

Excluding the suitcases on his bed.

He has no time to linger he knows, going to the suitcase he’d brought back with him he opens it, staring at the contents inside.

Two chintz angels stare back at him, horrifying in their banality. Duke would at least like to think he’d died for something...more exciting than porcelain figurines.

But he has no time to think more on it when Dave, he can tell who it is by their walk, steps on the creaky step at the bottom of the stairs. Quickly he opens his dresser and pulls out an old sweater, picking up the figurines—and here he’d thought most of the weight was from the case itself—and wrapping them in it so they didn’t break. Then oh so carefully stepping out of his room and dodging into the bathroom, the sliver of open door letting him see Dave walk past.

Only to hear a loud thump a minute or so later.

Leaving the figurines in the bathroom Duke burst out, in time to see a man all in black, holding the suitcase in his hand. The man is reasonably surprised at seeing Duke, considering. “Didn’t I kill you?”

Duke doesn’t have a chance to respond before Audrey’s there, shock and concern on her face as she takes in the whole tableau. One that changes with the sound of a shotgun being pumped. Both she and the man in black turn around to see Dave standing there, having lost his glasses in whatever struggle there had been, shotgun in hand.

“Get your hands off that.” With no more warning than that he pulls the trigger, hitting the man—a fact Audrey finds impressive considering the lack of glasses—and sending him flying through the window.

After the act Dave stands there for a few seconds, trying to calm his racing heart. Blinking, as if that will help improve his vision, he sees a blurry shape he thinks is Audrey, as well as the open bathroom door. Where unbeknownst to him, Duke is standing right behind.

Audrey gives Duke something like a wan smile and a raised eyebrow and Duke dutifully creeps back into the bathroom. Just in time as Dave finally finds his glasses and rushes to the broken window; alongside everyone else in the house.

“Dave what did you do?” Vince sounds more exasperated than horrified.

“What was I supposed to do? Let him steal the suitcase?”

Nathan finds himself fighting back the urge to roll his eyes at the two bickering men, turning his head just enough to see Duke climbing out the window. So for now Nathan’s going to call it ‘not as bad as it could have been’.

-

As it was Dave who’d done the shooting he and Vince were the recipients of the reward money, which caused them to step out of their house for the first time in ages, their eyes open to possibilities that they had ignored for so long. Duke meanwhile had felt a large amount of pride when he’d been told that.

As for Duke, and by extension Audrey, they were settling into a routine of sorts, if one that needed quite a bit of work before they would both be happy with it.

Nathan once again had his nose to the grindstone, seeking out whatever next case he and Audrey might have—and resigning himself to the fact that Duke would likely play a larger part in it than he’d like.

-

On the roof of Audrey’s apartment there is a small area set aside for summer barbeques and the like, being that it is early fall the space has been abandoned, leaving only various seats and charcoal grills as testament to the past few months.

Having borrowed two such chairs Duke and Audrey sit near the edge of the roof, the both of them supposedly stargazing. The light pollution of the city makes that harder than either of them would like.

“I still can’t believe you had a shotgun in your bedroom.” Audrey might know how to use a gun—she would give her father this, he’d certainly known how to pick a boarding school—but she has never owned one; let alone contemplated leaving one so out in the open.

Duke’s sigh is both fond and exasperated. “I’d gone skeet shooting, and yeah, forgot to lock it up before I went to bed, and again before I’d left. I’d had other things on my mind at the time.” Reaching down he picks up one of the angels. “I still can’t believe I died for something so tacky.”

Audrey laughs, before reaching out and taking it from him, holding her breath as she watched her fingers with hyper awareness, just one stray brush as this would all end.

But the pass happens without incident and the both of them feel a sort of relief—although a part of Duke wonders if it would be worth it to kiss her, even if it meant he would die. “This thing weighs a ton.” Granted she doesn’t have many memories of porcelain figurines to compare it too.

“I know right?” Duke picks up the second. “Could use one of these damn things as a doorstop.” Because he damn well can he moves the angel around like it’s flying and briefly makes an airplane sound.

It makes Audrey laugh again, she finds she can’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much. “We could just throw them off the side of the roof,” she says, part of her shocked that she’s just made such a law-breaking statement. Beyond lying more than she should to get into the coroner’s office she hasn’t done anything reckless with her life at all.

Duke grins. “We could,” he agrees. “Or we could just smash the hell out of them here, be more satisfying to pounding them to dust instead of letting gravity do all the work.” Audrey’s way would certainly have more oomph to it.

“They’re yours, so we can do whatever _you_ want.” Even if it means she’ll feel compelled to come back up here with a vacuum to make sure every last shard gets picked up.

His grin grows. “Lets smash ‘em, be like all those times when we were kids and told not to.” He doesn’t give a damn if they’re rare, or antiques, or whatever. Audrey’s right, they’re his and if he wants to stomp them to bits he damn well can.

Yet it takes more effort than he thought it would to uncurl his fingers and let the angel drop. Like there’s some part of him that wants to hold onto it, simply because it’s in his hand. But his body soon does what his brain wants and it drops.

It hasn’t even broken yet and Duke finds himself more satisfied than he thought he’d be. When it does break he can’t revel in the scattering of shards, not when there seems to have been something else.

“Holy shit.” He tears his gaze from the gold ingot, to Audrey—who looks just as surprised as he does—back to the ingot. “Holy shit.”

Audrey finds herself a bit incapable of speech, but she agrees with him. After staring at the ingot for a few more seconds her own gaze flies to the angel in her hands. “You don’t think?” She hadn’t felt both, so she has no idea if they weighed the same or not.

“You can drop it,” Duke says in an excited sort of rush.

She does, and a few seconds later they’re looking at a second ingot of gold. “Well fuck, I guess you’re rich Duke.”

He laughs. “I always thought the treasure I’d find would be a buried one.” He turns his attention from the gold to her. “You deserve some of it too.” Without her they wouldn’t be here experiencing this.

A blush steals across her cheeks. “Thank you, but, I don’t need it.” She not in that dire straights, and Duke does need it more.

“Well alright,” although Duke’s certain he’ll find ways to make up the difference. “I guess as long as I don’t have to share any of it with Nathan I’m good.”

Shared laughter rings out through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this romp. I'll probably come back and do a sequel at some point, I've certainly got enough planned out.


End file.
